


fixture

by strifescloud



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Australian AU, M/M, Multi, established genesis/sephiroth, zack angeal and cloud are tradies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 10:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6371785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strifescloud/pseuds/strifescloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sephiroth is finally letting Genesis renovate the kitchen of their Brisbane riverside home, and Genesis couldn't be happier.<br/>Except that as all Aussie blokes know, tradies are sometimes nearly impossible to deal with.</p><p>Although, this lot don't seem too bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fixture

**Author's Note:**

> ITS FINALLY HAPPENING  
> welcome to what i have been affectionately calling 'tradie au' for nearly a year now. as a brisbanite born and raised, the image of angeal, zack and cloud as tradies living in my city refused to leave me alone until i finally sat down and started writing what is probably the most self-indulgent fic known to man. and then i decided to share it with you, because why not
> 
> also slightly inspired by the sheer volume of renovations that have been happening in my street and the ensuing shenanigans the tradies have gotten up to
> 
> because as anyone who has watched reality tv here for even five minutes knows, australia as a nation fucking loves renovating

At exactly seven in the morning, the quiet was broken by the sound of a rickety Holden ute pulling into the driveway.

Sephiroth lifted his head to peer out the window, hands clutching his third cup of coffee like a lifeline. Draining the cup in one swift movement, he shuffled to the laundry and placed it in the basin, sighing deeply at the pile of dishes that were already there.

Genesis had finally consented to having their kitchen renovated – even though it was _his_ house, Sephiroth grumbled to himself – and some upheavals were necessary. While many of the small appliances had been moved to the dining room, Sephiroth felt the loss of the dishwasher keenly.

The knock on the door reminded him why he had come in here in the first place. Still half-asleep, he made his way to the front of the house, irritably pushing his hair out of his face. He probably looked terrible, although he’d had the forethought to at least get dressed. _It should be fine_ , he thought as he unlocked the door.

Opening it revealed three of the most attractive tradies Sephiroth had ever seen. He suddenly felt unprepared. The eldest of them grinned.

“Mornin’ mate,” he greeted with a cheer that belied the early hour, extending a hand, “Sephiroth, wasn’t it? You’re the homeowner?”

“Yes.” Sephiroth replied, shaking the offered hand firmly. “You are certainly punctual…”

“Angeal,” he supplied, gesturing with his other hand towards the two still unpacking the ute. “That’s Zack and Cloud.”

“Old mate said you’d be leaving early, so Angeal wanted to make sure we caught you before you left, make sure everything was fine.” The dark-haired one said, the numerous bits of metal in his ears reflecting the early morning sun. The blonde remained silent. “I’m Zack, by the way.”

“Everything is set up for you to begin work. The noise will likely rouse my partner, who can answer any further questions you have.”

“Cheers, mate. We’d best get started,” he added to the blonde – Cloud, presumably – who was still silently unloading the ute, “so that we can get out of his partner’s hair by mid-arvo.”

“Too right. We’ll let you know how things go.” Sephiroth inclined his head at Angeal’s statement, and retreated back to the bedroom to prepare for work. At least Genesis would have something nice to look at during the renovation.

* * *

Genesis was awoken by the sound of a drill boring into his skull.

Actually, the drill was probably in the kitchen – Sephiroth said the work would start today – but by the Gods, it _felt_ like it was in his brain. He cast a baleful glare at the door, which had so rudely failed to keep the noise out. Had they no respect for a decent night’s rest? He rolled over to face the alarm clock, feeling more irritated by the second. It was only _eleven_ , practically the crack of dawn!

The drilling continued, undaunted by the Genesis’s poisonous thoughts in its direction.

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Genesis pushed himself up from the bed, blindly grabbing something red from the wardrobe (Sephiroth dressed in monochrome, so it must be his) and throwing it on top of the doona. It wasn’t as if the tradies would _care_ how he looked, given that his intention was to avoid them entirely, but Genesis enjoyed the satisfaction of being the best dressed in the room and would certainly not be seen having breakfast in his pyjamas.

Suitably dressed, he cautiously descended, wary of suddenly running into any plaster-covered workmen. The drilling had since stopped, which means they may be on the move. He’d learned his lesson long ago when it came to letting tradies into your home. The way to the makeshift kitchen was thankfully clear, and he kept his steps quiet as he walked across the carpet. He assembled a variety of fruits that would probably serve as some kind of minimalist brunch and, with some trepidation, stepped into view of the kitchen.

The empty kitchen.

The work had, obviously, started – they had started ripping out counters and wall fixtures and even some of the floor. The tradies, however, were nowhere in sight. Typical. Genesis wandered back to the temporary kitchen to start cutting up his fruit. He stood at the window as he began to eat, watching the CityCats move up and down the river. A glimpse of movement caught his eye, and he stretched to see what the flash of black was on his back lawn.

There were three men lying in a row on his grass, heads pillowed on their arms as they watched the river.

 _Tradies_ , Genesis thought with a resigned flash of anger.  He put his fruit back down on the table.

He wandered out to the back, his frustration – though why he expected this lot of tradies to be any different to the norm was _beyond_ him – overriding his desire to avoid engaging with them. The blonde one noticed him first, murmuring something too soft for Genesis to hear and nudging his neighbour.

The other one turned to face him, a bright grin breaking out across his features. Genesis felt his irritation rise. No one had the right to be so cheerful this early in the morning – _especially_ when they weren’t even doing the job they were being paid to do.

“Mornin’!”

“Yes, good morning,” Genesis replied, a touch icily, “I see the work is coming along very quickly.” His tone was obviously lost on the younger man, whose cheer seemed indomitable.

“Sure is, mate. Just having a lunch break now, then we’ll get the rest of the old work out today probably, no dramas.” He showed no indication of noticing Genesis’s unimpressed stare. “I’m Zack, this is Angeal and Cloud.” The eldest of them, who apparently was named Angeal, pushed himself up to stand facing Genesis, offering his hand to him.

“You have a lovely home, Mr….?”

“Rhapsodos. Genesis Rhapsodos.” He shook the proffered limb cautiously, wary of the strength that was evident in the warm hand that noticeably dwarfed his.

“Mr. Rhapsodos,” Angeal, too, smiled at him, but it was gentler and less inclined to rouse his ire, “we have the design specs that the representative that you spoke with gave to us – I understand that it was mostly your, well, creative input?”

“Well, yes,” Genesis said with a slightly haughty sniff, “Sephiroth is only aware of the existence of three colours, and that’s white, black, and silver. I simply couldn’t continue to live in some kind of,” he gestured imperiously towards the house, “monochromatic design nightmare.” Angeal laughed at that, and Genesis shoved down the part of him that felt accomplished. He did _not_ need the attention and approval of random tradesmen. He _didn’t_.

That didn’t stop him from glancing back to see if he had gotten a reaction from the others. Zack looked as sunny as ever – Genesis suspected it was his default setting – whereas the blonde one, Cloud, was quietly staring at him. His eyes were very, very blue. It was slightly disconcerting.

“Well, we’ll do our best to make your design a reality, and of course if anything comes up we’ll make sure we have your approval before making any changes.”

“Having now met you in person,” Genesis began, giving the other man’s muscular body a quick once-over, “I’m confident that you can _handle_ anything that comes up.”

Genesis paused briefly to wonder if it was possible to be hit by a car in your own backyard, because someone needed to stop him before he kept flirting with the tradies. Meeting new people, always an issue.

Then Angeal blushed, slight but still visible and Genesis felt a triumphant smile form upon his lips, but forcibly reigned himself in before his malfunctioning brain-mouth filter caused an issue. They still needed to build his kitchen, after all.

Which meant they should not be lounging about on his grass.

Thankfully Angeal seemed to have caught on to the source of his irritation, as he turned and extended a hand to Zack, helping him up from the grass. Cloud followed suit, ever-silent behind them.

“We’d best get back to work, hey.” Zack wasn’t _totally_ clueless, it would seem.

“Yeah, look, better to get all the basic stuff out of the way today. Don’t want to still be ripping fixtures out tomorrow.” Angeal replied as he led them back to the house.

“Oath.”

Genesis trailed behind, having no desire to remain outside now that the immediate problem was dealt with. He inhaled sharply as they stepped onto his pristine carpet, eyes trained on their filthy-looking workboots, but they didn’t seem to leave any _obvious_ stains.

He resolved to check over it later. Finely.

The tradies were already in the kitchen, banging around and hopefully accomplishing something. He retrieved his fruit from the table and stood back at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe as he watched the work progress.

Cloud glanced up for a solid second and nodded at him, but the three of them seemed rather engrossed in their tasks and otherwise paid him no mind. Genesis continued to hover at the doorframe.

 _No_ , he told himself firmly, he was not _hovering_. He was supervising.

And if he was being completely honest with himself, it was almost nice to have someone to talk to during the day. Genesis valued his personal time, but with Sephiroth at work it could get almost lonely.

But he wasn’t paying them to chat, he reminded himself, and having run out of fruit before any of them noticed his _supervising_ he retreated to his study. He buried himself in his book, emerging only to briefly see them out late in the afternoon.

* * *

 

When he heard Sephiroth arrive home he emerged again with much more flair, dramatically banging the door open and descending the staircase. Sephiroth was sitting unconcerned on the couch, tie already loosened and shoes discarded haphazardly near the door. Genesis draped himself over the couch – and Sephiroth, by extension – resting his head on the other man’s leg.

“You’re _finally_ home,” he proclaimed, only slightly exaggerating his reaction, “I was terribly bored without you, dearest, as always.” Sephiroth hummed in assent, tangling his hand together with one of Genesis’s.

“I hope the work did not disturb you too much.” He finally replied, though there was a hint of _something_ in his tone that Genesis was very tempted to unravel.

“Well, unfortunately I did have to converse with them.” He affected a sigh, draping himself further over Sephiroth, who gave him an indulgent look.

“It must have been very trying.”

“Indeed.”

“No benefits at all.”

“Naturally. I caught them lying around in the backyard, can you believe? And they barely even _cared_ that I found them slacking off instead of doing the job we’re _paying_ them to do.” _They barely even cared I was there_ , he doesn’t add, because Sephiroth doesn’t obsess over the opinion of strangers the way he does.

Sephiroth leans down to kiss his forehead, and he gets the feeling that he heard it anyway.

“Come on, I want to cook dinner. Up.” Sephiroth tugged on his hand until he obligingly moved, swinging up from the couch to follow him into the kitchen.

It was hardly worth getting worked up about, in any case. The renovations would be over in a few weeks, and everything would go back to normal – or so he hoped.

But then, things rarely were as simple as they were planned to be.

**Author's Note:**

> a big big shoutout to my qp nikki who is from logan and not only checks my slang (because i, like genesis, am from the inner suburbs) but also helps me develop most of the ideas for this au
> 
> i dont know any shit abt building a kitchen, so please imagine the boys as all-purpose tradies because i cannot be bothered having a big ensemble cast to include an electrician and a plumber and a idk cabinet specialist or whatever else you need
> 
> update schedule will be whenever i have a spare moment because i am a very busy undergraduate  
> feel free to come have a chat at strifescloud.tumblr.com


End file.
